I Don't Feel Like Dancing
by LastoftheWine
Summary: Continued off of Chapter 14 of 'The Long Walk' by Stephen King. Slight McVries/Garraty


Garraty watched from two feet away as McVries growled loudly and tried to pull out chunks of his messy, dark hair. They were all beginning to crack, and it seemed as if McVries was unaware of the rest of the living dead walking wearily beside him. Despite their half-dazed, unfocused state, many managed to watch Pete in curiosity and hope, that he might be driven completely insane; insane enough to receive warnings.

Locks of McVries' hair slowly dropped to the ground, creating a crooked trail after him. Garraty didn't say anything, but slid up right next to him, walking in sync with McVries. Hough was the one staring after them the most intently; he knew he was going down too, and the thought of passing by one more person satisfied him greatly, enough to allow him to hold on just a bit longer. Garraty felt sick to his stomach.

"Garraty?" McVries wondered. He was squinting off into the distance, harshly, as if there was something desperately meaningful ahead of him. There wasn't; the road stretched on for miles. Garraty didn't reply, because McVries was like a mouse watching the largest piece of cheese in the trap; hunger telling him to go for it, but common sense getting in the way; the slightest movement would make him scurry away. Whether away was to the forest, or to the bullet, Garraty didn't know.

"I'm just so tired, Garraty. So tired, Garraty." He repeated Garraty's name twice before shutting up. They trudged on for a few seconds until McVries interrupted Garraty's attempt to speak. "Remember what I said earlier? You remember, doncha Ray!" McVries' eyes gleamed with sweat. "You gotta let me, buddy. We're all dying, no one will care!"

Hough was still inspecting the two's every movement. Baker was weaving back and forth, wobbling on the edge of the road every now and then, but not for long enough to require a warning. Stebbins was trailing after all of them, eyes on his shoes; he was the cat.

"McVries, what're you talking about?" He had to say something, and though he thought he might have an idea, he didn't want to finish that though.

It cause McVries to erupt in an uneven fit of laughter. At the quieter laughter, Stebbins looked up before catching himself and eyeing his shoes again. McVries was given a warning when he started to double over. Garraty wrapped his fingers around McVries' shoulder – so goddamn thin his fingers fit around the entire piece of flesh and bones – and McVries instantaneously composed himself. His eyes weren't gleaming anymore; they were screaming.

"You've got to let me do it, Garraty. The three Musketeers, right?" McVries pleaded. Garraty tumbled over a root and was given a second warning. "I'm just so horny right now." He moaned in exaggeration. It looked as if he had wanted to release it for a long time. He took a large gulp of air afterward, trying to catch his breath. "I need to jerk off, but I can't. You're the only person I can ask."

Garraty felt the cheese coming back up. "Back to this, are we?"

McVries clutched his loose strands of fabric and Garraty jumped clumsily. Almost his entire body had been aching, but now his groin was added to the list; pushing urgently against his pants.

"Garraty," McVries said. "I have to look at someone." He twisted Garraty's shirt in his slender fingers, and the simple movement jerked Garraty forward.

He swallowed; it hurt so much he didn't care if it was Stebbins. "Okay," he rasped, giving in.

Hurriedly, McVries unbuttoned Garraty's pants. "You'll have to hold up your pants so you don't trip." He shoved one side of Garraty's pants into his shaking hands. Garraty's head was spinning; there wasn't anyone left to make fun of him; Parker and Barkovitch were all gone. He lazily held his pants up as McVries tried to keep his balance and pull down Garraty's underwear.

They were safe; the crowd had dissipated at the end of the last crowd, and it was rare for anyone to be wandering around the woods. A red hue stained Garraty's face; he was already hard. He held his breath as McVries shrouded Garraty's penis with his shaking hand. Garraty's chest constricted as he bit his lip from crying out.

"Oh my God," McVries murmured. Garraty could hardly hear him over his hammering heart. Everything around him suddenly felt so excruciatingly searing. Sweat was dribbling down him as a gust of wind blew by.

"Just hurry up," Garraty snapped.

McVries complied—taking all but ten seconds until Garraty was biting his lip and coming into McVries' hand.

McVries blinked, and wiped his hand on the side of his pants while walking a zigzagged line.

Garraty buttoned up his pants, quick. Holding a defensive tone, he said, "It's been a while, all right?"

McVries snapped out of his gaze and looked at Garraty. "You say something?"

"Nothin'," Garraty said, tone gruff. "Look, we forget this ever, happened, all right?"

And they did.

At least, McVries did.


End file.
